Posts from the ‘local’ Category

Way “down under” Portland, in (southern) Sellwood, is a coffee shop named the Blue Kangaroo. Very visible is a large old coffee roaster ; like many local places, Blue Kangaroo roasts its own beans in small batches, and sells it in the shop and online. Behind the roaster are pictures of kangaroos holding steaming mugs of joe (do the animals really like it in Australia?) The ceiling supports not only a fan, but also a flying pig, for some reason. Wooden tables and chairs fill most of the house, windows flank the entrance, and a high counter faces the street in each window. In the rear is a couch-seating area, with burlap covering the wall nearby. Pictures, mostly of trees and plants, decorate other walls, including in the otherwise plain bathroom. There is also a TV mounted on one wall. Up front of the coffeehouse is a toy area to welcome little kids (Do they also have a Koala Bear Care changing table in the bathroom?, I wondered. The name of that item, sold to so many restroom-providers over the years that its name has almost became as generic as kleenex, has cemented the word “bear” after “koala” in my vocabulary. Kind of like the phrase “doggy bag” at restaurants, or the word “icebox” instead of fridge in my parents’ day. That is, we say it, know it is wrong, but can’t help ourselves without as much effort as it takes to transform a racist into a politically-correct person).

Now hop back to the coffee shop, please.

Fare: There was a selection of teas, and a few doughnuts and bagels. I, as usual, had a black coffee; It passed muster and was average-priced.

Hours: 6:30 am (7am weekends) to 6pm

Service and clientelle: The place wasn’t busy, but patrons happened to be young, studying or using laptops. Ambience was quiet and pleasant. Definitely a neighborhood place. Kudos for recycling.

Rating: 3 coffee beans (of 5). Right on par, but not really distinctive except for the kangaroo theme.

The outstanding thing about CupCoffeeCo., which serves a perfectly fine cup of Stumptown coffee, is the plentiful seating. Inside, outside, upstairs, downstairs, front, back, side. Bright pick/red umbrellas anchor the decks on this repurposed older house. With metal mesh tables, the decks, front and side, at least, are pleasantly flocked with bushes. Dogs are welcome on the decks also, and because Cup is situated on a slight hill, from the deck you can peer down over the greenery.

The “working” part of the coffeeshop is tucked in a room under an arch; the rest of the main floor is seating: chairs, tables, some with vivid upholstery. A modern bookshelf in the side room holds some reading material, a wooden fireplace provides a front-room focus, and one chalkboard-painted wall by the service area serves as special menu and community services board. The cellar steps near the rear door are intriguing but dark, and at the base is a huge room, brightly-painted, with lots of tables, and a couch area by a sidewalk entrance. Oh, yes, there’s also a knight guarding some bright yellow pipes (and daring people to enter the cellar?) , for some odd reason. The ambience is spaciousness, perhaps to the point of excess, and Cup is decorated rather simply with new, IKEA-style materials. Even the bathroom walls are covered with spots of mirrors. Cup offers password-protected WIFI, but, surprisingly, nobody was using it when we were there.

Fare: As I said, Stumptown coffee is moderately-priced. They serve quiche, bagel sandwiches, vegan pastries, and a breakfast burrito, and use hemp milk for lattes, if desired, and serve a Townshend tea. To mention a few options.

Service and Clientele: From kids to an older woman, but there was no adaptation for children. Service? No problems; nice enough. Apparently the roomy place is sometimes well-used by students, but not during this visit. They would have had laptops?

You can go to Europe and buy a miniscule cup of cafe for a lots of Euros, or else you can go to Portland’s own, well, Costello’s own Travel Caffé and get a small cup of coffee for a small price, and pretend. OR, true to European standards, get alcohol. The family-owned-and-run place has strong roots and solid, quality old-school furniture—including rounded and square wooden tables with wrought-iron bases, as well as carved frames for the mirrors in the bathroom. International license plates decorate the main counter, and about 4 clocks are, of course, set to different time zones (Paris, Tokyo, etc.) in the back. I wondered about clock #3, however: What time zones divide the hour into thirds? A video silently plays on 2 separate screens; today’s feature appeared to be Amsterdam and its waterways and houseboats. An old suitcase plastered with travel decals (similar to the ones my grandparents picked up around the world in the 1920’s, when steamship travel and trains reigned) sits in the hall to the bathroom, and travel brochures are on the bathroom walls. Travel posters and pictures decorate the walls of the main room. The older building has lots of front windows, a few of which are stained glass, and tall ceilings and hanging lights. In the back is a kitchen which can be peeped into through a round glass window in the swinging door. My hope was to see the well-known pastries being made, just like the apple streudel in Vienna, but I got only a couple of friendly smiles when I glanced into the kitchen. Out front of Costello’s Travel Caffe were seating (small metal tables and chairs) and an umbrella, making it even more Continental.

Fare: coffee $1.40, pastries, beer, and big pieces of delicious-looking pie. Expensive rhubarb-custard pie, but delicious. My resistance crumbled, and I tried it, actually believing the sign said $3.50, not $5.50. When I said I thought it was $3.50, I had the distinct feeling that the server thought I was trying to scam him when he said, “You don’t have to buy it”. I should have simply eaten my mistake, and so I did.

Service and Clientele: The customers included several older folks and some younger ones, even a woman with young children. Not all were playing with their laptops or mobiles, as they say in Europe. Imagine!

Bathroom: Walls were lined with travel brochures, and a lovely mirror graced the wall. I felt elegant just gazing into this mirror.

They took an old Craftsman house along Belmont, transformed it and—viola!—the place became the Rocking Frog Café in 2007. With a dark green main room, a blood-red ex-bedroom (multiple skull pix on the walls—was this all to remind us of pithing the frogs in freshman biology?), a gold “library” and an entry-way with a couch plunked down in it, and a single bathroom right in the middle, where you’d expect it. A community information board was over the couch in the rather claustrophobic (some might find it cozy!) entry. The library had a half-wall, or, rather, contained pass-throughs between it and the main room, and stools flanked this wall. The library, and indeed the entire place, had lots of books, skulls, plants, stained-glass windows and other interesting items, as well as dark woodwork. The place seemed, in a word, dark, and a stark contrast to the bright light that shone in through the windows. In the red room was a game bookshelf, and this room had a door which opened into a back yard with tables and tall bamboo. A gas fireplace held its own in the front room, and elegant but well-used overstuffed wing chairs provided seating. Two frog bookends echoed the frog theme (the pithing one, remember?). Generally, I liked the place, and I don’t require much of a theme. Doesn’t make the coffee any better, and variable anarchy beats frogs any day. Too many frogs become trite, or should I say too much of any theme becomes a crutch. The best thing about the Rocking Frog was the hot—made-to-order—doughnuts! (Could be that’s a bias due to the fact that the dining hall in my freshman dorm had the last known one of those machines. Last known to me, that is. I gained the “freshman 15” gobbling hot doughnuts, I’m pretty sure). I vaguely remember some cool blues music: that makes a place come alive, regardless of gloom and doom.

Service and clientele: Busy young people quietly working on laptops. Many of these hipster places are filled with really friendly folks, at least if you’re friends on Facebook. One woman worked, providing coffee service very adequately and quickly popping in our doughnuts. Later, our raving about them seemed to fall on deaf ears; she must be used to praise!Bathroom: Basically the way it always was, not all gussied up. But the unnerving thing was that the wear caused a slit through which to peer out—or in. I liked its stained glass transom window–real class!Fare: Did I mention the hot doughnuts? $1 each or 6/$5. All right! Also served were chai, lattes, & the usual hot drinks, pastries, and many types of salads and sandwiches, from ham to vegan (prosciotto cheese and fig piqued my interest)Rating: 3 coffee beans (of 5 possible). Guess I can’t get beyond the sobriety of laptop environments, but I kinda-sorta liked the place.

Kenilworth Coffeehouse
3713 SE Gladstone St
Portland, OR 97202
Planted right next to a nursery in January 2013, Kenilworth Coffeehouse was meant to fill a need in its immediate neighborhood, namely, the replacement of a now-defunct pizza-and-coffee shop. Mimicking a spindly new seedling, the place is rather spartan, with red-and-white-checkered linoleum floors and bentwood chairs placed along a wall that is bare except for a few small pictures (Perhaps it will fill out as the years pass by and become cozier, as mementos and paraphernalia fill the voids like so many wildflowers). Outside a single metal table with 2 chairs offer “dog” seating (or so I took it—actually the table had an ashtray on it), and a no-nonsense name was painted on the front window. Several overhead lights, including two new globe-like silver ones, provide the lighting. A rear door opens out into what seemed like a shared space with the garden store next door, an enticing place (but I’m just guessing about its being open to the coffee shop, come warm weather).

Fare: Coffee was $1.75 for a small styrofoam cup. Several other drinks were also available (see menu), but little else.

Service and clientele: A single woman filled the orders quite adequately, and she was also friendly. I did notice, however, that when she was told that my dog spilled my coffee outside (darn dogs!) she did not offer to replace it; I chalk this up to being new to business. Several customers quietly drank their brew; young ones, natch. I’m hoping this is the beginning of a resurgence in brewed-coffee drinking!

Bathroom: No chance to evaluate; dogs can’t go inside for this either.

Rating: 2+ (of 5 possible) coffee beans, because it’s still in its infancy.

I happened upon this gem of a coffee shop while looking to kill a little time in NW Portland. Open weekdays 6:30am-12am an

d weekends 7am-1am, it definitely caters to the locals who live around the area and need a pick-me-up even after dinner hours. Perhaps that’s why they selected the name Coffee Time? Because every hour is coffee time…

Climate:

Lots of hipsters/young people. Coffee Time offers free wi-fi, so a lot of people were sitting around on their laptops. The space is nice, with two different rooms to choose from (one in front, one more secluded in the back beyond the restroom). Both are decorated artistically, but the front room is also very light with a skylight & plants adding a touch of green. You could choose booths or chairs. I opted for a small table near the front door.

Fare:

They offer regular house coffee, but also drinks like spiced chai and Mexican mocha (made with Mexican hot chocolate, it adds a lot of spice to the sweet mocha!). I had a regular mocha — it wasn’t too pricey as far as mochas go. They also offered sandwiches and other snacks such as pastries.

Go through the widest door ever in an old repurposed house, turn left, and you’re in a quintessential* Portland coffeehouse. Turn right and you’re in a Etsy-like store selling fine arts products and clothing. They share a bathroom as well as a close connection, apparently. The coffeehouse, known as The Hazel Room, occupies the original living and dining room, and, as such, has dark woodwork, boxed ceilings in the dining room, an attractive bay window, a fireplace, and the original narrow oak flooring. The Hazel Room, the main seating area, has not been noticeably modified except for the installation of a sitting bar along the side wall (nice wood-and-metal stools) and facilities behind the counter. Old-style copper tiles brighten the walls in several places, while other walls are wallpapered. Because the fireplace has its stokers, I assume it is functional, but it wasn’t lit. Simple wooden tables surrounded by good fabric-seated antique wooden chairs contribute to the feeling that the place was set up with care, rather than thrown together to quickly join the bandwagon of coffee shops nowadays. As a matter of fact, The Hazel Room is more than a coffee shop; they serve cocktails (!) and other alcoholic drinks and have a happy hour for that. They also serve soups, salads, and sandwiches, and have a weekend brunch. And tea, in teapots and fine (although ours was chipped) china! All that was missing was the tea cozy!

* quintessentially Portland means not run-of-the-mill, but quirky. The quirky determination is because of the inclusion of alcohol per se and the use of teas in the alcoholic mixed drinks. Then there are the wall portraits, mostly of odd-looking people smoking. One looked like a star in the contemporary TV program, Suits (The guy is an apprentice to a very rich lawyer, and a rising star in the firm, except that–surprise–he never went to law school, let alone the Harvard everyone assumes he attended. Is his presence in not one but two portraits meant to suggest something irreverant about Portland or its coffee shops?).

Fare: Lots to choose from; as I said, they serve food, too. My drip coffee was $2.00 for the small size, and I had a “sea salt” chocolate chip cookie for $1. My companion was feeling adventurous, so ordered Earl Grey tea with lavender. The teapot was a pleasant surprise, but the salt in the cookie reminded me (slightly) of the time my young son, with the best of intentions, misread a teaspoon for a cup of salt, in one of his first forages into baking. No, the chocolate chip cookies here weren’t that extreme, but let’s just say that this seasalt business is an acquired taste! As far as other things on the menu: the descriptions sounded mouth-watering, and we noticed that food seemed fairly-priced. They do serve bacon and other meats, but who would expect a vegan place to have smoking pix on the walls?

Service and clientele: About 10 customers, all young and rather hipster. One was reading, one talking a foreign language into Skype, I suppose, and the rest busy on their laptops. Password WIFI. The server was friendly, even complimenting my necklace, but for some reason didn’t want us to stay on the stools by the counter; this seemed a tad rude. We relocated at a table, and were graciously brought our tea. Were we “outsiders” here in the heart of Hawthorne? Hawthorne was the name of my grammar school, for Christ’s sake! Later, when I said to the woman in the next door shop that I overheard someone (the server who was busy when I wanted to find the bathroom) say that the entrance to the bathroom was in the back of the shop, the shop person said with a slight prickle, “You didn’t hear me say that” instead of telling me immediately how to approach it. I found both of these behaviors slightly odd; for that reason alone I felt somewhat uncomfortable, although I liked the place a lot otherwise.

Bathroom: Fine once you get to it. No provisions for infants; in fact, the place had no children’s area.